


Up And Down On This Merry-Go-Round

by The_Changamire



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: A Party Member Is In Need of Assitance, Cold War, Episode: s01e01 The Vanishing of Will Byers, F/M, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Government Conspiracy, Government Experimentation, Multi, Protective Joyce Byers, Protective Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper, Protective Siblings, The Upside Down, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26035540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Changamire/pseuds/The_Changamire
Summary: Six months.That’s how long it takes for the Party to come to terms with the most recent events starring the Upside Down.That's also how long it takes for the aftermath of the Gate Key’s explosion to catch up to reality.And in an instant, four middle-school boys find themselves in a basement belonging to the Wheelers, a Dungeon and Dragons campaign set out in front of them, two years in the past.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Robin Buckley/Steve Harrington
Comments: 13
Kudos: 62





	Up And Down On This Merry-Go-Round

**Author's Note:**

> The fact that Time-Travel fics are virtually non-existent in this fandom appalls me.
> 
> Which is why I'm doing it myself.

It happened in an instant.

One moment, Mike Wheeler was on the phone talking with El, something he did as frequently as possible now that she had moved out of town along with the Byers. Had Mike felt that taking in El would have resulted in a decent outcome, he would have given away anything his parents demanded of him in return.

It was a stupid idea, of course, so he didn’t bring it up, consigning himself to calling El as much as possible, and visiting the Byers when Nancy drove over to visit Jonathan. And that they did, nearly every weekend, the Byers having moved to the house one town over, far enough away from the Upside Down and everything else, but close enough to keep in touch with friends.

Despite the long distance relationship he and El ad struck up, their love (and even now, mike’s chest fluttered at the thought) still held firm, and only grew with each passing day.

Even though the highlights of his days were the visits and phone calls with El, Mike still hung out with the rest of the Party, which had moved to encompass Steve, Robin (who the rest of the Party got to know better after the Battle of Starcourt) and, on the rare occasion, Lucas’ younger sister, to everyone’s surprise. In the aftermath of the events of the Battle of Starcourt, both before and after the Byers left Hawkins, they all sought comfort in each other. Oftentimes, they would all gather at Steve’s place (he had an apartment he lived in, who paid for it mike didn’t know) and watch movies, eat pizza, and cry.

They did that last part a lot.

Hopper was dead, having died giving time for Joyce to close the gate. Billy was dead, something Max slowly trudged through with grief for a love she never knew she had for him. 

And the Byers were leaving, taking El with them.

Mike had  _ not  _ been a fan of that.

But he understood, _really_ understood, that all Mrs Byers wanted was a safe place for her kids (his friends) to grow up in, away from the tragedies that had resulted in the abduction of her son, and death of two people close to her heart. So they left, Joyce, Jonathan, Will, and El, and the rest of them carried on, slowly relaxing as the Mind Flayer (or Russian agents) failed to materialize. Even himself, the most skeptical, started to loosen up ever so slightly.

And then,  _ and then _ , unbeknownst to him, beneath the burnt-out husk that was Starcourt, where the gate had once been, reality warped for a split second.

Then it detonated.

And Mike found himself, instead of his room upstairs, downstairs in the basement of his home, a DnD campaign set up in front of him, and the original members of the Party besides him, similar looks of shocked disbelief on their faces.

* * *

When reality finally stopped spinning, Nancy Wheeler found herself still in her room, a phone in hand, and Barb’s voice on the over the end of the line, and her breath hitched.

_ “--eve Harrington? Come on, Nancy, you know guys like him! He only wants you for--”  _ Barb’s voice (because it was hers, it was definitely hers, Nancy could never forget that voice even if she tried), shook Nancy to the core.

“B _ -Barb _ ?”

There was a pause on the other side, no doubt her friend having heard the near-sob in her voice.  _ “Nancy, are you alright? You don’t sound well.” _

Regaining control of her voice, Nancy steadying it, before faking a yawn and replying. “Sorry, I’m just  _ so  _ tired. Can we finish this talk tomorrow?”

_ “Y-yeah, sure! See you at school! Bye!” _

“Bye.”

When the phone clicked, indicating the other recipient had ended the call, Nancy almost re-dialed Barb’s number, just to hear her speak, to make sure she was still alive, that the Demogorgon didn’t-

Nancy’s thought process ground to a halt.  _ Wait. If Barb’s alive, and this isn’t a dream... _

It clicked in her a few moments later. Somehow, she’d been sent back in time, or then events of the next three years had been a very long, very intricate daydream.

Tonight was November the 6th.

The beginning of the manhunt due to the Disappearance of Will Byers.

Nancy shot out of her bed, not even bothering to properly place the phone back on it’s case, rushing into the dining room, quickly surveying it. Her mother, who was still calling up Mike, gave her a concerned look. “What’s the rush, Nancy? Is everything--”

“Everything’s fine, mom,” Nancy lied, “just got tired of hearing you yell for Mike to get up here, so I wanted to go get him.” Another lie, but she’d do it a thousand more times of it meant stopping what was soon to begin.

“Alright then, don’t be too long, and remind Mike that this is a school night, not a Friday!”

The eldest Wheeler child was already halfway down the basement stairs before her mother even finished speaking, near-stumbling into the den where the boys played their Dungeons and Dragons campaign.

She would admit, when she initially didn’t see them at the table, DnD board and dye abandoned, she panicked. Had she had a little more time, she would most likely have started screaming out their names (mike, where was mike did that thing take him too?) and alert her parents, something which she did  _ not _ want to do in the slightest.

The panicked cry died in her throat when she heard whimpering in the corner of the basement, a part of the room she hadn’t scanned upon descending from the upstairs.

And there, huddled in the corner, were the boys, three of them huddle closely, surrounding the fourth, who seemed to be the source of the whimpering. Not wanting to alarm alarm, Nancy started to slowly, quietly, make her way over to them, though the ‘quietly’ part of that went out of play when she accidentally kicked a dye, the skittering causing the Party to raise their eyes in alarm, only for alarm to fall into shock when they caught sight of Nancy. They all stood, frozen, ‘till Mike stood up and cautiously made his way over to her.

“N-Nancy? What are you--”

Whatever Mike had been about to say went unheard as she surged forward to wrap her youngest brother in a protective hug.

* * *

She couldn’t believe she was doing this.

Robin Buckley, despite being in Band, something that immediately shunted her down to the bottom ranks of the High-School Hierarchy, took shit from no-one but herself and her parents. Even when she’d been targeted for her love of music (what could she say? The cello is a nice instrument) she didn’t ask for a shoulder to cry on, no. She went about her business and carried on for the day.

Bullying was one thing.

Apparent time-travel and/or mass hallucinations was another, and Robin really wanted to make sure wasn’t going crazy.

Finding Steve’s address in the phone directory had been simple enough, so after doing so, she grabbed a jacket, put on her shoes, and told her parents she was going to hang out at a friend's place.

And it would be true, assuming Harrington still recognized her as a friend.

The night, strangely enough, seemed more oppressive than usual, and Robin found herself speeding up slightly, eyes darting from side to side, seemingly watching for a danger that wasn’t there.

Robin didn’t like it.

She knew too much of Hawkins to think that it was simply her nerves acting up.

Finally arriving at the Harrington household, Robin breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the light illuminating the porch, hesitating for only a moment before knocking on the door, and waiting.

There was silence for a moment, before the she heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming down the stairs, before the door cautiously opened, and Robin found she was immensely glad that the visage ( _ ‘visage’? the hell’s up with that?! Get your grip together! _ ) of Steve Harrington greeted her through the gap.

Harrington, apparently, thought differently of her, since his eyes widened. “The hell are you--”

Ah, shit, he didn’t recognize her.  _ Abort, abort! _ “Sorry, my bad, I have the wrong house,” Robin shrugged, making to turn away and head home.

She would have, had Harrington not flung the door open, grab her arm, and yank her inside, before closing and bolting his door.

Giving an indignant stare at Steve, her eyes narrowed. “What the hell, Harrington?!”

“You, uh... have the right house.”

The retort she’d been preparing died before parting her throat, and she took a real, long look at Harrington.

He looked tired, ragged, and worn.

He was also holding a baseball bat with nails embedded in it.

_...Oh. _

“...So it wasn’t all an elaborate dream I came up with, huh?” Though she spoke the words with nonchalance, inwardly she was praising the Lord that  _ no, she wasn’t crazy, Steve Harrington was her friend _ , and she hadn’t walked all the way here for nothing.

Steve shrugged at her assessment. “Seeing as I know you, I guess your right. Thanks for proving I’m not losing my Goddamn mind.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

“Also, you’re staying the night.”

At that, her eyebrows raised. “What? Why?”

Glancing at the lights, Steve gripped the bat tighter. “Tonight is  _ not  _ a good night to walk home in the dark.”

* * *

Jim Hopper had gone home for the day, taking off his uniform, reclined in his seat, and prepared to do his thing; watching movies and drinking the night away.

His first thought, upon sitting down and promptly sinking into his seat was;  _ Aaah,  _ **_that’s_ ** _ the stuff. It’s been a helluva long time since I’ve sat down in chairs like these. _

A strange thought, in hindsight, since he lived here and frequently sat down in this very spot.

The second thought, while even stranger and somewhat alarming, explained the first one a bit.

_ Mm, probably ‘cause I was stuck doing manual labor in a Russian Gulag for half a year. _

_ … _

_ Wait, wha-- _

That was when reality unilaterally decided to spin on its heel, and he was promptly walloped in the stomach by a surge of memories. 

And then, abruptly, it was over, and the Hawkins Chief of Police found himself on his knees in front of the television as his mind sorted out these new memories.

Names and faces he shouldn't know but  _ did _ flashed through his head, along with places and dates and events, eventually stopping at just two.

_ Joyce. _

_ El. _

He was in his cruiser and on the road in five minutes.

* * *

Before fleeing the lab in the chaos following the opening of the Gate ( _ my fault, my fault _ ), Jane ‘Eleven’ Hopper made especially sure to kill Papa before escaping the facility by crawling through a drain vent. Despite what she denied, what Kali had said to her that day still scared her, the chance that Papa had still been out there, waiting to swoop in and take her away from her family, her friends. 

And Mike.

Especially Mike.

El didn’t know how or why she had been brought back to that horrid place, the lab (she’d nearly had a panic attack upon realizing the situation), but she would not waste it.

As soon as she could coherently think, she made a bucket list, something El had learnt from Max over the phone.

Number One: 

_ Kill Papa. _

_ Make sure he never,  _ **_ever_ ** _ threatens your family again. _

And, having accomplished that, El felt a bit lighter.

Ticking that off her list, she could move on to the next.

Finally exiting the drain pipe, El let herself inhale, then exhale, enjoying the nighttime air in comparison to the stale, sterile air in the lab. 

She would have like to lay their longer, or make her way to Mike’s home (even now, she still missed him. would he even remember her?), but, in the corner of her mind, she saw the Demogorgon slipping into the night, towards the home of the Byers.

Eleven stood up.

She had been given a chance to fix things, and that was a chance she would not waste.

_ I made this problem. _

_ I am going to fix it. _

El set off after the Demogorgon.


End file.
